


time waits for no one (so do you want to waste some time)

by Yessica



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I mean technically he's not actually a kid but ya know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Underage Drinking, five too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yessica/pseuds/Yessica
Summary: Four years truly is a very long time to be away. Then again, four probably doesn't weigh up against seventeen (and then some)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	time waits for no one (so do you want to waste some time)

Four years was an awfully long time, Luther had discovered.

208 weeks. 1460 days. 35 063 hours. Luther had never been much good at math - physics was more his style – and had flunked on every one of those advanced classes their father was ever so fond of subjecting them to, but there wasn't exactly anything better to do when you're all alone and bored out of your mind than keep track of time passing. And he had felt every single one of those one hundred twenty million something seconds.

There were only so many samples one could take, so many reports one could write, so many hours one could waste away by staring at the earth turning in lazy circles so far away and so full of people and life it was almost sickening.

And him, all by himself, for reasons that only turned out to be pointless.

He filled the glass again, all the way up to the brim, the booze a beautiful amber in color. Say what you want about Sir Reginald Hargreeves: that he was a monster, a psychopath, a lunatic, and a terrible father to boot, but the old man had good taste when it came to liquor.

For a moment he simply watched the liquid threaten to spill over the brim, suspended in animation, and he had to shake the thought that Dad would hate that, would hate it if they wasted his precious whiskey or ruined his expensive mahogany table.

Luther didn't really care though.

"Are you drinking scotch?" Five's voice was as casual as always, but just the barest trace of amusement lingered. Especially when he got closer and got a better look. "No, are you drinking scotch out of a _wine_ glass? That's just unethical."

Luther hadn't heard him come in. That wasn't exactly unusual for Five of course, who always just went where he wanted when he wanted without concern for, well, anything or anyone. He hummed in response, taking a sip. Whiskey, much like any drink with an alcohol percentage above 10%, should probably be enjoyed in moderation. He didn't particularly care about that either.

"As much as I enjoy seeing you finally indulging in teen rebellion, I have to say I'm surprised." Five took the seat opposite him casually, hands clasped behind his head, "After the whole rave thing, I thought you would have had enough for a while."

Luther visibly cringed at that. "Klaus told you about that?"

"Klaus tells everybody everything," Five answered.

There was a weird noise, it was similar to the popping of your eardrums when you get on a plane. It reminded Luther of that first journey and the way he had clenched his hands into fists, breath fogging against the inside of his helmet. Then Five was back again, a blink-and-you-missed-it moment, but he had a glass in his hand which he slammed onto the table loudly.

"Pour me a drink, would you?"

Luther raised one eyebrow, the bottle of whiskey was still in his hand and he held it closer now, out of his brother's reach. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?"

He wasn't sure if it was a joke or a reprimand. Maybe it was both. Five threw him a look that spoke more than words ever could, balancing the glass on its side, spinning it around with one finger. It was one of their father's crystal tumblers. The ones that were always kept on the highest shelves out of reach from curious children.

"Too old, more like," Five said eventually when it became abundantly clear that this was one of those things Luther was going to be annoyingly obstinate about. "But fine, tell me what's on your mind first then."

He hesitated, took another sip just to not have to say it, and then proceeded to down the entire thing automatically. There are a lot of the Hargreeves siblings you can get away with lying to, but Five wasn't one of them. "It's stupid," he admitted.

Five did that thing where he kind of rolled his eyes, though there was no malice beneath it. It was strange, to see this boy who looked not a day older than the one that stormed out of the kitchen in a childish tantrum when they were kids, but who didn't sound or act anything much like himself anymore.

Luther filled his glass again.

"It's just really stupid," he repeated, watching the reflections in the liquid instead of his brother's face. "You don't actually want to know, probably."

Five's lip twitched. Maybe it was a smile. Maybe he was about to ask why Luther would think that. He shook his head, leaning back in the chair, balancing precariously with his feet on the tabletop.

Their mother always told them how dangerous it was. How easy it was to lose your balance and crack your head open on the kitchen linoleum. Their father never said anything though. He probably thought a few cracked skulls would be an ideal learning experience.

"Try me."

Luther sighed. "It's just weird being back, that's all." He glanced up at Five awkwardly. He didn't know what he expected the other to say now but his confession was only met with silence, so he took that as a cue to keep going. "So much has changed it's like... Like I'm not even coming home to the same place anymore. And now we have all this shit going on and the reports and-"

"I've been gone for half a century."

And when Five set his glass upright again, Luther dutifully filled it to the brim.

"It's the small things. Silly things, you know..." He left the bottle in the middle this time, so either of them could reach it just fine. Letting a minor drink still felt off to Luther, but his rigid moral compass hadn't exactly served him well the past week so he was happy to ignore it for now. "Like the record shop down the road that closed down. Or my favorite radio channel not having the same hosts anymore. But it feels so big to me."

Five nodded empathically but still didn't say anything. Luther felt like there was probably a reason for that, but couldn't think about it and now that he had opened his mouth suddenly it was too hard to stop the next sentence from escaping. "It's not like I had much of a life outside the academy to begin with but even that has completely slipped away in just those four years. It's-"

"Surreal?" Five finished his sentence for him, one eyebrow arched and his glass was empty again but he didn't look inclined to refill it. Maybe his stint at the library was still affecting him, though Luther doubted it.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Here's how I see it-" Five started and stopped, probably noticing Luther subconsciously bracing for impact by finishing another glassful. He rolled his eyes again. "You can either wallow in misery about having lost everything, or you can use this opportunity to build something new."

The confused look on Luther's face probably spoke volumes about his current capability to comprehend such sage advice, with the whiskey bottle near empty between them.

"What I'm saying is, being away meant you lost everything. And coming back means you have to start all over again. But that's just the way of the world. Everything changes all the time, you can't hold on to anything," Five clarified. It was probably the most Luther had heard him say since all this bullshit started. "Only the really important people, you have to hold on to those."

It was incredibly profound. Luther probably shouldn't respond with a joke, the sober part of himself realized. Which might have been a good thing, if he was at all sober right now. Too bad he wasn't.

"When did you become so old and wise?"

Five smiled, lightly, sincerely, but it didn't reach his eyes yet and Luther knew it would take a while. For both of them.

"You should listen to your elders." Five reached out to tip the bottle upside down one last time, shaking it to get the bottom drops out. He put the glass to his lips. "They are way smarter than you."

The response was near automatic. "You sound like dad."

Five chocked on the drink rather comically, coughing hard. "God, I fucking hope not."

They laughed about it then, maybe because that's the _only_ thing they could do. Maybe because it didn't matter anymore. Soon the world would end and then nothing mattered.

But for now, they had time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one in a collection of drabbles that I'm calling "Luther and Five have so much in common and I love them for it."
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://sharada-n.tumblr.com/)


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